The Man She Can't Forget. Maggie Cox
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‘Well, I didn’t become a vet or a politician,’ she said. ‘Being responsible for setting the world to rights was too tall an order, so I became a librarian instead.’
‘Well, well, well...a librarian?’ Gabriel’s expression was wry. ‘I know you loved books, but I always thought you were far too passionate to squirrel yourself away in some dusty hall, lending them out to the great unwashed public!’
‘In case you hadn’t noticed, we’re not living in the Dickensian era.’
Lara couldn’t help but bristle at his mocking tone, but at the same time she couldn’t help registering the disturbing fact that he’d called her ‘passionate’. Had he always thought that about her? The thought made her heart race even as she reminded herself that he’d once painfully rejected her.
‘Amongst other things, I issue books in a state-of-the-art college library with every bit of modern technology you can imagine at my disposal. If you think I chose a “safe” option in becoming a librarian, instead of a vet or a politician, then I can assure you that dealing every day with the demands of diverse and sometimes tricky students is no walk in the park.’
‘But you love it?’ Lifting a dark eyebrow, Gabriel smiled. ‘I’m glad that you found a career you enjoy, Lara. And, just for the record, I still think you’re passionate. I’m sure you would be whatever you decided to do in life. You can’t help your nature.’
CHAPTER TWO
‘AND WHAT ABOUT YOU, GABRIEL?’ Lara asked, feeling suddenly hot again, because she seemed to be the focus of attention and she would much prefer to learn more about him. ‘What line of work are you in these days? Are you still involved in finance?’
The smile Gabriel returned was faintly rueful. ‘Yes, I am.’
‘What exactly do you do? I mean, do you have a job title?’
In answer he rose to his feet, and it was clear to Lara that her questions were unsettling him.
‘I’m a CRO on Wall Street—and, before you ask, that stands for Chief Risk Officer. I deal with analysing risk-and-reward formulas in financial businesses and banks.’
‘Oh.’ She raised her shoulders in a shrug, feeling none the wiser with the explanation. ‘It sounds complicated.’
‘Does it?’ A visible muscle flinched at the side of his carved cheekbone. ‘At any rate, I’d advise you not to lose any sleep trying to figure it out.’
‘Meaning you don’t think I’m intelligent enough to understand?’
‘You always did take umbrage when you thought I was being mocking, didn’t you? Perhaps you should try not to take things so personally.’
As Lara mulled over the comment, to try and ascertain exactly what he meant, Gabriel moved across to where she sat, leaned down and gathered her hands in his. Then he silently pulled her to her feet.
There wasn’t an adequate description for the huge wave of both panic and pleasure that suddenly engulfed her...except maybe abject disbelief that it was happening. Over the years, she had fantasised many times about what it might be like if Gabriel ever touched her or held her close as if he meant it, and while her heart sang to have him near she couldn’t help but remember the time when he’d so purposefully moved her away from him and told her he could never be for her. But even that agonising memory couldn’t stop her from thinking that being close to him like this felt so—so right.
Then she realised that his brilliant blue gaze was examining her with a searching intensity that couldn’t help but make her apprehensive.
‘Tell me about Sean,’ he commanded quietly, his tone almost reverent, as though even uttering his friend’s name out loud distressed him.
Relieved that it wasn’t anything she’d inadvertently done or said that had made him study her so intently, Lara took a nervous swallow. It still upset her terribly to talk about Sean and remember afresh that he had died. The thought was akin to sharpened cold steel being plunged into her heart.
‘What do you want to know?’
Gabriel didn’t release her and she found she was in no hurry to be free. His hands were large and warm and they made her feel strangely secure, made her ache for the kind of loving, sensual protection that only a man like him could provide. She was suddenly aware of a small vein throbbing in his forehead.
‘Why—how did he contract malaria?’ he enquired huskily. ‘Don’t volunteers have to have some kind of protection before going out into these godforsaken places?’
‘Of course they do.’ Lara was taken aback by the underlying rage she heard in his voice...touched that he still felt so strongly about Sean after all these years.
She was angry, too, that the brother she’d loved so dearly had been ripped from her so suddenly and without warning, and the wounds of that loss were so great she feared they might never heal. Yet she wouldn’t run away from grief, no matter how hard it hurt. She’d made a vow to face it head-on and not wound her heart further by denying how she felt. Something told her that it would be disrespectful to Sean if she did. But still, she utterly sympathised with Gabriel’s confusion and pain.
‘He had all the necessary jabs and medical examinations before he went over there,’ she said softly, ‘but malaria is caused by a mosquito bite from an infected mosquito, as I’m sure you probably know. Shortly after his death, a tear in the netting over his bed was discovered. Unfortunately the charity was always short of the money to be able to replace the old ones when they were no longer any good.’
‘So he was given a faulty mosquito net?’ His tone disparaging, Gabriel abruptly dropped Lara’s hands and stepped away.
Feeling both bereft of his touch and chilled by the memory of how Sean had died, she crossed her arms over her cotton shirt and nodded sadly. ‘It seems so.’
As if he didn’t know what to do with his rage to contain it, he strode over to the other side of the room to stare blindly out at the sunlit garden. Suddenly he spun round again to face her. ‘How could Sean have been such an idiot?’ he asked angrily.
‘What?’ The brutal question had the same effect on Lara as if Gabriel had slapped her hard across the face.
‘I mean, why didn’t he think of the consequences of being so careless about his own welfare? Probably because he’d never dream of putting himself first—and that was the problem. Why else would he accept a faulty net and risk being bitten? Even if he hadn’t realised it wasn’t intact. He should have checked. But he was always too busy thinking about others, wasn’t he? No wonder he went into charity work. What a waste that turned out to be.’
His blue eyes glittered with fury and then, seconds later, looked utterly desolate.
‘He was a genius at maths and science. He could have gone into any investment bank or financial concern and gone straight to the top. If it was